Surprise!
by seattlecsigeek
Summary: We've got a birthday, we've got a surprise, and we've got smut; what else could you ask for? This fic has a special guest star, JellybeanChiChi. Happy Birthday, Chauncey/MSCSIFANGSR. We hope this helps you have a great one.


**Title: Surprise!  
Rating:** M. Definitely M. Holy cow, M!!  
**Why?** Smut and humor, my friend. Smut. And humor.  
**Authors:** jellybeanchichi, csigeekfan, and seattlecsifan  
**Why?** Cause we want Chauncey to have a FANTASTIC birthday, even if she's away from home.  
**Disclaimer:** Please don't sue us for playing with the characters' anatomy.  
**Summary:** Sara has a birthday party – quite a memorable one at that.

**X X X X X X**

**The Reveal — Sara's big entrance to a new life**

I know it was my birthday and quite honestly he should have been wearing the trench coat, but sometimes giving a treat is a treat in itself.

I just didn't think I would be treating more than one person.

Or 20, for that matter.

So, it was my birthday. The big 3-7, and I wanted to say goodbye to 36 in a big way. Almost like a rebirth.

And I wanted to be reborn in front of the man I loved — Gilbert Arthur Grissom.

I had this good idea. Actually, I reasoned it as "poetic kink." For a rebirth to occur, one must redo their outlook and their look. So, I went to Frederick's and picked up something new. Something I wouldn't have picked up last year.

A piece of evening wear that screamed, "Look at my tits," instead of saying, "Hey, look. I've been to New York, New York."

Sure a birthday suit would have been apropos, but call me devilish. I wanted Gil to see me in that lingerie and passionately rip it off to get to the birthday suit.

Of course, sometimes, the devil is in the details.

But I'm ahead of myself. It started when Gil found me in the kitchen five days before my birthday. I was staring at the coffee maker, when he came behind me and lifted the hair off the back of my neck. As he dropped gentle, lazy Sunday morning kisses he said, in that irresistible throaty voice, "I'd like to take you Le Pavillion on Friday night."

"Really?" I replied, basking in the feeling of his breath close to my ear. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said, his hands flirtatiously stroking sensitive areas under my New York, New York nightshirt. "It might be someone's birthday."

"Well, it's not yours, even though Le Pavillion is your favorite restaurant," I said, my smile certainly hidden from his eyes, but not from the tone of my voice.

Gil turned me around and held me against him. "Don't play like that. You love that place. I seem to remember having to work very hard one evening to upstage the, and I quote you, 'orgasmic explosion' offered by the polenta with wild mushrooms and white wine cream sauce."

Well, that was true. And afterwards I had a mocha chocolate brownie with homemade vanilla sorbet. Oh my God. Gil did try hard, and did an incredible job. But … oh my God.

But back to the kitchen … I wasn't about to turn down the offer because … well, shit, did I mention the fucking brownie? And it truly was his favorite restaurant. Although, I know my blow jobs could trump his fried calamari with rouille, cherry peppers and lemon, and that lamb dish he always gets. I've seen his food face and his fuck face. I win.

Then I got "_the _idea." If I could wear something that could make him forget about our dinner reservations and just… well fuck me right there in the living room, my "new life" would start off just fine.

So that was my plan. The hardest part was trying to find a place to change. Yes, I could have changed at work, but strolling down the hall wearing a trench coat in mid-September just sounded like a stupid idea. I could just hear the "pregnant" rumors fly.

Then I thought about the dog park. They had clean restrooms and big stalls, including a handicapped stall that was bigger than my college loft. Minimal amount of people. Enough lighting to apply makeup and tweak those stray hairs. Girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do.

So I did that. And I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Problem with that, is sometimes security guards view inconspicuous as "guilty as sin."

When I came out of the ladies room in the trench coat and "fuck me" stiletto pumps (that's right, I matched the lingerie with the foot wear. I'm telling you, I had to pull the big guns. The brownies at Le Pavillion are that fucking good)… anyway, when I came out, I tried to make a beeline to the car, when I saw the flashlight beam straight into my eye.

"Excuse me miss," the guard said. "I need to see an ID."

I don't know what was more embarrassing — showing my lab ID or having the guard call the lab to confirm my identity. Note to self: Trench coats make you look fat, no matter what is underneath. 5' 9" 145 pounds my ass!

But that was just a fluke, right? Just a bit of karma catching me on the tail end of my "old life." The good stuff doesn't start till I get home, right?

When I got to the townhouse, all was dark and quiet. I figured he was in the bedroom getting ready. So I yelled out, in that sexy, teasing voice I know makes his dick twitch, "Oh Gilbert? Are you there, baby?"

I said he would be right out. So when I heard him come out, I flung off my coat and switched on the lights while yelling "SURPRISE!"

Oh, it was a surprise. It was like the world stopped. Well, until I saw that flash of light from the right hand side of the room. It had to be Catherine. Who else would say under her breath, "I can't believe we now own the same outfit."

I had to fucking fling the coat didn't I? You know how hard it is to find a trench coat and put it on gracefully when there is a room full of people gawking at you like were performing a sex act on an animal at the zoo? In stilettos?

Not so easy, right? In fact, it was especially difficult because a certain someone who should remain nameless (fucking Greg) grabbed the coat and tried to play keep away.

Thankfully, Gil, who was probably more red with embarrassment than I was, grabbed the coat and whisked me away to the bedroom.

Well, one thing went right, I definitely distracted him from going to Le Pavillion.

**X X X X X X**

**The Party – Hank's night of living large**

My boy (I call him Daddy) gave me bacon. Accidentally. I don't think he knew about it or he wouldn't let me have it. He dumped that whole tray of tofu bacon that my girl likes (I call her Mommy), right in front of me. Mommy doesn't let Daddy have real food. Since he doesn't get good stuff, I don't get good stuff, either. Trust me… tofu bacon is _not_ good stuff. I love Mommy, but sometimes Daddy and I want real food. Tonight Daddy told me we don't have to sneak the ice cream. It's a special night, so we get to have some good tasting treats along with Mommy's food.

I still don't understand what was wrong with what Mommy wore. Most of the girl dogs I know show off where their milk comes from when they ask for tummy rubs. What's wrong with Mommy showing off too? Those spiky things on her feet scared me, though. What if she stepped on my tail?

Later, Mommy came out of the bedroom wearing Daddy's sweatshirt. That's my favorite look. It's my favorite smell, too, cause that shirt always smells like both of them.

This guy with a funny accent, Nick, played with me. Daddy's friend Catherine got really close to Nick, after Carol went to get something to drink, and asked him if he only dated people with 'big knockers'. From the way Catherine moved her hands, I think she meant those big mounds like Mommy has that sometimes get pointy.

Nick's friend (he called her Carol) came back and they started playing the tongue game, but he kept trying to stop her. Yet, while his hands tried to push her away, he kept moaning. Usually, when Mommy and Daddy use their mouths to play, I turn around. Humans can be so gross. Who knows where those tongues have been.

Then Carol dragged Nick over to Mommy.

When Nick's friend said, "I wish you hadn't gotten dressed. I could've stared at those killer nipples all night," I felt Mommy's temperature go up. Then something strange happened. Nick started breathing funny. In fact, I got a little worried, so I nudged him in the crotch to get his attention. Usually, if I nudge Daddy in the crotch, he looks at me right away.

After I nudged Nick in the crotch a few times I didn't worry anymore. He gave off that smell Daddy gives off right before he locks me out of the bedroom. I wondered for a minute where Nick would put me, but then Daddy patted me on the head.

And Daddy didn't look too happy, and Nick started acting funny and took Carol someplace else.

Mommy and Greg pet me for awhile after that, and Greg snuck me a lint-covered piece of beef jerky from his pocket. I like Greg. Then a little later, I lay down near Catherine. She sat on the couch, and kept giving me pieces of her muffin. It tasted like Mommy's banana bread, but I shouldn't talk about that. Mommy got mad that I ate the entire loaf. Off the table.

Later, I sat with Mommy again, and she grinned at me. In fact, when she leaned in, she smelled like that drink she and Daddy have out on the back patio sometimes. It's this creamy stuff that tastes like mint ice cream. Don't tell anyone, but Mommy gives me some of it when Daddy isn't around.

Sometimes, when Mommy isn't around, Daddy gives me beer. It has a funny taste, but it makes me feel weird in a good sort of way.

Brass is my favorite, though. He gives me stuff that makes my nose tingle and my tongue go numb. It doesn't taste too good until I have had three or four good licks of it, but that's okay. After that, I _really_ like it. In fact, I was feeling good when I finally wobbled my way over to Mommy and Daddy to lay down on Mommy's lap. I really liked the smell of her sweatshirt, so I let out a long breath to let her know I was happy.

While Daddy kept frowning at Nick's friend Carol (who kept waving at Mommy), I nudged Mommy's hand and burped. In fact, I'm proud of that long, loud burp, and my friend Rufus would be, too. He lives with my babysitter. My friend will think it's cool that I gave Mommy such an impressive burp before I went to sleep.

I don't know why it made Mommy frown, or why Daddy bit his lip, because he looked pretty impressed, too. In fact, he looked like he wanted to laugh, just like Brass.

"Jim, just how many shots of scotch have you given Hank?!"

I closed my eyes, because I was so tired. I don't know why she sounded upset. A couple minutes later, she burped too.

**X X X X X X**

**The Smut - The after party's sure to be a wing-ding.**

I'd been surreptitiously watching Sara ever since she arrived home, when she mistakenly flashed a houseful of friends with a view of the lovely new lingerie and stiletto heels she was wearing under a trench coat. I'm pretty sure I've never seen her turn quite that shade of red before. Well, not without some pretty specific stimulation, anyway.

She'd slowly loosened up once she'd come out of the bedroom wearing one of my sweatshirts over a pair of her baggiest sweatpants. I suppose the Bailey's she was sipping might've had something to do with her progressively relaxed attitude.

I was feeling pretty relaxed myself. Well, at least until Sara caught me and Brass sharing our scotch with Hank. Let me tell you, the shit hit the fan then. I wouldn't dare say anything to Sara, but I think that's why the party started to break up. I tried to quiet her down. I even kissed her when she wouldn't pipe down. That seemed to work pretty well, so I kissed her some more - harder - but by then the damage had been done.

The condo cleared out before we even knew it, and since it was kinda late, we decided we might as well go to bed. I tried to get Hank to go out to the backyard, but he was out cold on the kitchen floor, so I helped Sara into the bedroom instead. She'd had enough to drink so that she was a little unsteady on her feet. She nearly ran me into the wall a couple of times.

When we finally stumbled into the bedroom, she started in on me again; something about Nick's girlfriend, Carol, trying to checkout her tits all night. I really didn't blame Carol, especially after the lingerie-clad view we'd all started the party with; but I didn't really feel like hearing about it, so I kissed her again.

Damn, but she tasted good. Sweet, with a slight bite of whiskey underneath. I swirled my tongue around her mouth to taste some more and Sara grabbed my ass, moaning as she pulled me close. She turned her head a bit, deepening the kiss, moaning slightly.

I love it when Sara starts to moan; really, really love it. Something about that sound makes my prick incredibly hard. It's almost a Pavlovian response, Sara makes that hot, sexy sound and I get a boner. Never fails.

When I started to rub my hard-on against her hip, Sara started to inch backwards towards the bed, stopping at the edge of the mattress. She pulled her mouth away from mine and grinned a really seductive, devilish grin before she sat on the edge of the bed and started to unhook the fly of my slacks. Now _I_ was the one that was moaning as she lowered her head to kiss my exposed belly just where the pubic hair started to grow.

I kicked off my shoes while she tugged at my pants and boxers, sliding them down my legs to free my cock. She cupped my balls gently with one hand while pumping my hard-on with the other. Tilting her face to look me in the eye, she dipped her head and flicked out her tongue to lick the bead of pre-cum that had seeped out. Closing my eyes I groaned and thrust my hips towards her as she opened her mouth and took in the length of my cock.

I threaded my fingers through her silky hair and started to pump slowly, God I love it when she sucks me. I could feel the blood gathering, making my cock swell even more. My balls were starting to tighten so I reluctantly stepped back.

"Easy, honey. I wanna be inside you," I said as I untangled my feet from my pants. When I was finally free, I reached out to grab the hem of my sweatshirt and pull it up over her head. Pushing her back on the bed, I slid my hands into her sweatpants and slipped a finger between the lips of her pussy. She was definitely hot - silky, smooth, wet and ready to be filled.

I pulled my hand out of her underwear and licked my fingers, watching as Sara's eyes dilated. She quickly squirmed out of her sweats and pushed herself back on the bed, opening her legs wide in invitation.

I knelt on the bed between her thighs, leaned over her, propping myself up with one hand while I wrapped the other around my cock. Sara licked her lips and swallowed hard as she watched me fist myself. I know she gets off on watching me play with myself and so I pulled the foreskin back as far as I could, putting my self on display for her.

Her hand snaked down between her legs and she dipped a finger into her wetness before she started to rub her clit. We were both getting closer and closer, watching each other masturbate. When Sara started to bite her lower lip and thrust her hips, I lowered myself the little bit it took to nudge the tip of my cock into her.

She held still for just a moment, holding her breath, waiting for me to sink into her. I waited until she gave in and hooked a leg around my hip to pull me closer before I slid home with an incredible, world rocking rush.

I think we both shouted out some version of, "Jesus fucking Christ!" I was so hot I knew it wasn't going to take long before I came and by the way Sara was writhing and groaning I knew she was close, too.

I hooked her legs up over my shoulders for a better, deeper fuck and started pumping. Sara's hands grabbed my forearms and she started to mutter, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," under her breath.

Feeling the tightness in my balls start to explode, I pulled free from Sara's grasp, slid my cock out of her and started to jerk off over her belly. Her eyes snapped open and she shot a hand down to rub her clit as I started to pump my stuff over her in thick ropey spurts.

Sara's hips started to buck as she climaxed, rubbing herself with my come. I reached down and flicked her clit with my thumb, watching as the last tremors rocked her.

Blowing out a huge breath I collapsed next to her on the bed. Sara turned, snuggling against me.

"Holy fuck, now _that's _what I call being reborn," she said, I have no idea why.

**XXX**


End file.
